


Pray for us Sinners

by peachiibubbletea



Category: Pray For Us Sinners
Genre: Attempted Murder, Drama, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Murder, Murder Mystery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, pfus, pray for us sinners - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 08:21:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11574156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachiibubbletea/pseuds/peachiibubbletea
Summary: Damian Oleg, a more city-accustomed boy, moves into the middle of nowhere. However, soon, he begins to learn some rather interesting things about his new home, more or less concerning the fact that people are going missing.





	Pray for us Sinners

The bump in the road pulls a snoozing teenager out of his slumber, his back pushed against the leather seat he settled on for- how many hours now? He had lost count. Blue eyes blinked away an uncomfortable sleep, and a hand comes up to rub gently at sore eyes. There’s a moment’s hesitation, and the male is suddenly glancing out the window of his parent’s old Toyota. There’s nothing, _nothing_ that he can see immediately other than an upcoming billboard that only has “PRAY” in big, bolded red letters. He sneers towards the word, pulling the strings of the hoodie he had worn for… Days, now. However long this trip had been. 

“You alright there, Damian?” As if sensing her son’s contempt, Mrs. Oleg turns in her seat in the front, gentle eyes staring over Damian in quiet acknowledgement that he was now, quite obviously, awake. Damian sighs, pulling his head out of the hood and pushing himself up further against the seat, legs straining against how little room he had to stretch. 

“I’m fine- just. Stiff. It’s stuffy in here I’m ready to get the fuck out.”

“Damian.” 

Suddenly his father is speaking, and the teen sneers a bit, eyes darting down in slight annoyance. 

“Yeah yeah, sorry. It’s just- we’ve been driving since forever and I’m tired I want to sleep in an actual bed instead of the glass window. Which, by the way, isn’t very comfortable.”

Mr. Oleg glances back in the front mirror, cocking an eyebrow at him before he shakes his head, eyes turning back to the road. Mrs. Oleg, however, smiles before reaching back to gently pat Damian’s leg.

“Just a little longer. Promise we’re almost there.” She promises, turning back in her seat and staring at what seemed to be an endless amount of tall, dried up sunflowers. The heat in Texas is relentless, and given they’re in the middle of nowhere, he’s not surprised by it. However, Damian can see the treelike not too far up ahead, the dried masses suddenly reaching towards the sky in a flurry of color. He sighs softly, biting his bottom lip before popping his earbuds into his ears, and mindlessly putting some playlist he had on his phone to shuffle.

However, he will admit, his mother was right. It wasn’t too long until they started seeing a few stores, the forest hiding most of everything unless you new the area well, or you just looked hard enough. The Olegs note a few stores; A Dollar General, Shipley’s, a few gas stations, and the rest was mostly trees. Or churches. Lots of churches. Damian frowns at the sudden abundance of the holy places. They’re not big, they’re rather small, but it isn’t long until he sees what he presumes is the main one in which many gather to. 

It isn’t too old, but it certainly isn’t new. The paint needs to be redone, the parking lot paint is almost entirely rubbed off, but it isn’t too bad from the other smaller, much more rundown buildings around. His eyes relocate themselves as suddenly they’re turning down a path that is divided by a thick median of pines and birch. The main road is hidden, and the road they’re driving on is all Damian can focus on. He lays his head back for a few minutes, feeling a few turns being made (Left, Right, Left, Left) and then as soon as the car stops, the boy is flinging off his seatbelt and bolting out of the door of the car.

“God damn does that feel much better!” 

Damian is nearly weeping at the feeling of his legs again, being able to stretch his lanky body after hours of sitting in the same, cramped space. His parents follow after him a few minutes after, and soon, Damian turns to see the larger moving truck pull up in the driveway, the tires crunching against the loose rock and gravel that lead to the house. It isn’t long until his father unlocks the door to the house, swinging open the wooden door to begin the dreaded unpacking process. Hours and hours go by, grabbing boxes, putting them down here, placing them there, it’s an aching process that they don’t get down until later in the day.

The blue haired boy groans softly, rolling his shoulder blades back, hearing a few mildly concerning pops from his back before he drags himself to the couch (that, of course, he and his father had to pull out themselves). He exhales as his back hits the cool leather, and blue eyes close in a soft bliss. His hands reach up to the ceiling, eyes reopening to actually take a good look around the house. From his comfortable spot, he can see the kitchen, a bedroom, a small hallway to a side door, and a large hallway that leads to more rooms. 

The floor is a white marble tile for the most part, until you hit the outskirts of the living room. Then it dips upwards into a soft colored wood by some obviously treated and polished tree. Boxes are littered all about the room, but Damian can’t find it in himself to move them further into their designated areas. So, instead, like any teenager would, he sits back, closing his eyes, listening to the distant ramblings of his parents in the other room, unpacking their own boxes into their room.

However, sleep is short, as a deafening ring from the doorbell makes the 19 year old jump up, panic settled in his blue gaze. He, of course, gets over it quickly, about to open his mouth to yell at his parents about the door before they beat him to it.

“Damian, we’re getting our stuff unpacked.” Of course. He thinks rather bitterly, already in the motions of getting up off the couch. “Could you see who it is? It’d be nice of you to meet the locals anyway.” “And it would harm you to meet them too, hm?” Damian responds beneath his breath, blue gaze narrowing accusingly at the door.

A knock is heard now, and Damian groans. “Shut up I’m not even there yet just fucking- calm down.” He sneers, not too loud just in case the other person in front of the door decides to take offense. His hand presses against the cold copper doorknob, and he twists his wrist to open up the entree way. “Yes, what can I help you with?” The teenager asks gruffly, bringing his eyes up to meet much darker ones.

Damian is suddenly very taken back by the eyes alone. They were brown, of course, but… due to just how close the stranger was standing to him already, he can see parts of blue and a chocolate blending together in small shards, like how colored glass would stand out against a dark mud. The next thing he notices is his hair; a soft blonde, gently framing the other’s face, standing out against their eyes. The strands fall in waves, shining gold in the sun's dimming light as it sets over the tree line.

Then, third, the smile. An innocent, yet intimidating smile. Damian can already make out almost unnaturally sharp canines from that smile, and notices a flicker of movement. A hand has been presented to him, and he draws blue eyes back up to the offender’s own multicolored ones. That smile seems to only grow when Damian hesitantly takes it. The shorter boy steps forward, getting impossibly closer, closing his hand around Damian's, head tilting and eyes becoming hooded just a bit. There's a soft laugh that comes from his throat, and once again, Damian is taken back.

“Hello, neighbor! My name’s Reuben, and let me tell ya, pal! We are so, _so_ glad to have you here in Chapel Hill.”

**Author's Note:**

> Updates will be every Saturday! Enjoy <3


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